My Sister's Wedding Ch 07

My Sister's Wedding Ch 07

After the Wedding

Nothing, no everything, has changed. Everyone is over 18. Everything is fiction. © Copyright 2026, Brunosden. All rights reserved.

Loren and Cole are on Sable Palm Island in the Grenadines in the Caribbean at an extended destination society wedding--Loren's sister's. The beach wedding has finally taken place--an informal and simple ceremony of commitment, after days of pre-celebration that were over the top and lavish, given the wealth and pedigree of the hosts and the guests. Obviously, the week-long event was as much "marketing" for Loren's two dads' investment banking business as celebration of their daughter's wedding. But, the wedding itself was spiritual in its simplicity. Cherisse and Paul were in love.

Only two days remain on the contract between Loren and Cole--his pretend fiancé. Cole has successfully navigated through Loren's old friends and his two dads. He is a charmer and convincing. The magnificent alpha model and influencer has come across as an intelligent fashion executive and suitable partner for Loren. Loren is vindicated. He is engaged to one of the most desirable men on the planet. Days of intense sex, Cole always on the receiving end, have brought the two young men to a special place. Cole, vers and bi, but preferring to top men, has fallen into his role as perpetual bottom to a Nordic giant with a dick to match his size. The fake relationship had become so much more--for both of them. What had started as a contractual affair, between two guys as unalike as could be conceived, just barely tolerating each other--except of course in mutual lust--has become a promising romance.

Lust and good sex tend to have that result in young, horny men.

And incidentally, Cole has "earned" enough to buy the condo he's been eyeing in Soho. He admits to himself that it's been some of the easiest money he's ever made.

But, there is trouble in paradise. Loren is convinced that Cole screwed up, cheated, and broke the key element of their contract: absolute exclusivity. Loren broke into their Casita to find the three of them nude, on the bed, playing "house" with two French Algerian wedding guests who had been gunning for Cole since the first meeting. It was a scene to enrage any potential partner: two dark, hung, hairy guys were apparently spit-roasting Loren's Pet--the manicured, beautiful, model that is the toast of the metro-sexual world. Moreover, Cole seemed to be enjoying it--or at least participating.

It all happened toward the end of the entire destination affair--when it seemed that something more was buried deep inside the pretend partnership between Loren and Cole.

Outwardly, Loren is angry and withdrawn. Inside he is sad. He's been betrayed--again. He needs to be alone to allow his anger to simmer--so that he can complete the charade of their relationship before the wedding festivities dissolve and end. And get off the island before his dads realize his make-believe, and once again conclude that Loren is a loser at love.

Cole is speaking.....

The wedding is over. It was short--maybe fifteen minutes. A little chamber music, the ring exchanges, the vows, the pronouncement, and the first toast offered by Loren. It's still early since the ceremony was scheduled to take place just as the sun set over the Caribbean waters, around six in mid-winter. Many claimed that the green flash had occurred to bless the newly married couple, just as the "I do's" were exchanged. And, if so, it was probably the most spiritual moment of the week--and a good omen for the future.

Loren had, together with his dads, kissed Cherisee and handed her to Paul. He had held the rings as they were blessed, smiled as the minister took them and handed them to each. And finally he had pronounced the final blessing--really the required best man's speech. And it seemed sincere. He is genuinely hopeful that his sister and her new husband will find happiness and love in commitment. When he was speaking the words, he seemed wistful. Sad almost, under the smiling congratulatory veneer. He is acting like he's lost something important. Something precious. And I'm pretty sure it had nothing to do with the business negotiations that he had had in St. Vincent earlier in the day.

My heart went out to him. I had broken it. And I deserved anything that he'd now throw at me.

I sat alone throughout the ceremony. Posing. Once again a beautiful fixture for the society affair. Eyes glued on the magnificent figure that Loren cut. Sad and troubled, even though I tried to put on a happy face. Could this ever be us? Probably not now.

The wedding ended and waiters began circulating with small bites and drinks. Most of the guests are remaining on the beach. This is the last night for many. They'll enjoy the champagne and the cake. And their last night in paradise--at least for a little while. New York and other centers of commerce are beckoning most of us back to work--and the expected gray, cold weather of winter in the North. It's time to return to reality for at least a few more winter weeks.

Loren approached me after he finished, "I'm heading back to the room. I've got a few things to clean up after this afternoon's events." He didn't take my hand, or invite me to follow. He was still angry, and I detected, disappointed, but resigned. And I wasn't sure whether "the afternoon's events" that he referred to were his business negotiations or his discovery of me naked, sandwiched between two French Algerians wedding guests on their bed in their casita upon his return--being penetrated on both ends by the gauntly handsome men. He hadn't spoken a word since. He hadn't even complained about the clothing that LVGD had sent along with me for him to wear at the beach ceremony. He had just dressed in what I had set out and led me out of our room. His silence was both unusual and terrifying.

But, he was nevertheless dazzling. The casual outfit from Gucci paled into nothingness compared to his regal height, broad shoulders and strong Nordic legs. We walked together down the rustic path under the palms to the beach. Anyone looking at us would have assumed that two of the alpha males of the world had found each other. And were happy and contented. (We were both pretty good actors.)

He is angry, obviously. And, he is hurt. And curiously, when he hurts, so do I.

Fortunately, neither Andre nor Louis had shown at the ceremony. I'm not sure what Loren would have done if they had defied him and stayed on. When he had discovered us earlier, I thought it possible that he'd really hurt them, maybe even murder them. It could have been suicide for them to defy his command to leave. No doubt, they had taken a late launch to St. Vincent and were on the way home--or at least checked in to another hotel on the bigger island.

I had endured the wedding, showing a happy face, and accepted the admiring and envious glances of many guests. Now it's over.

I stood, alone, leaning on a convenient palm, sipping champagne as the colorful post-sunset sky brightened the horizon with color and the bio-luminescence of the Caribbean waters began to dance in front of us. Good will and merriment surrounded me. But, I felt none of it. Should I go to him? Should I try to explain again? Or was I wrong? Maybe I should not have gone to Casita 6 before Loren returned--but he had left me a message, I thought, to meet him there. Had I given Andre and Louis a signal? At a previous dinner? Or at the beach barbeque dance when Andre had cut in and we had danced? Or this afternoon? That I was available. Or had I been just my naturally seductive self. I guess I'll never know. I didn't think so. But, I have to admit, it's built into me. I'm an influencer. A spokesperson. A model for the top of the top in luxury goods. I'm selling myself as much as the products I use and wear. Every day. Fuck! I'm always on offer, as the Brits say. Make a decent enough bid, and I'll sit in your lap. Or take you to a ball. Or take you to bed. It's the persona that I've made myself. Until yesterday, I never really had any doubts. I was always advertising--myself. Always open for business, so to speak. Always insecure enough in my self-worth that I wallowed in praise. It's who I am. Or maybe who I was before Loren.

Loren knows all this. He's paying a fortune for me to be with him these weeks. He knows who I am. So maybe it is all about business. He thinks I've breached his fuckin' contract. I took another big gulp of the bubbly. Maybe I'll just stay and get drunk.

But I didn't betray him. It is all a mistake. I know what I am. What I am capable of. But, not this time. I would never cheat on Loren. I'm in love with him. There, I've said it. And I mean it. It's a first for me. Maybe for him too. So what am I going to do--other than getting drunk on the Grande Dame?

Just then, Don, one of Loren's dads, approached. "Do you know where Loren is? I need to speak to him, but he seems to have disappeared." But, when he got closer and looked into my face, he added, "Oh, oh. Something is wrong, isn't it Cole? What has he done now?" (Curious that he thinks it is Loren who has "done" something. I guess they've got a history.)

"He went back to the room. He was tired. Apparently the negotiations today were more difficult than he anticipated. Maybe he didn't get what he wanted this afternoon. He's sulking." I lied, covering.

But Don was not to be put off. "He's my son, Cole. I know him better than that. He can't do this to his sister. She thinks he disapproves. And she's upset. Can you get him to come back--even for a few minutes?"

"I doubt it. He seemed pretty bummed."

Don stood there, gazing into my face. "It's not the business, is it? Have the two of you had a fight?"

I was silent. It was not my place.

"He's angry and needs to calm down."

"Loren is always angry. If anything doesn't go his way, he jumps to conclusions and lashes out. You need to deal with that, Cole. His Dad and I have done it for years. And our assignment is about over. We're happy to turn over the care of Loren to you. You are good for him. We've never seen him so consistently happy--and content. He almost seems satisfied for the first time in his life."

"Incidentally, we love the way you've cleaned him up. He's an adult for the first time in his life. And, at least until this evening, he's seemed unusually happy. You seem to be pretty good for our boy. You have our blessing."

"Thank you, but after this afternoon, I'm not so sure any more."

"Let me tell you a little story about Loren. He'd probably kill me if he knew I was telling you. But you need to know."

"Loren was a precocious child--I presume you have guessed this. He matured early. He was well over six foot when he hit college--and we had deliberately held him back in prep school so he could mature emotionally. He was tall, gangly, but an innocent nerd, when he went to Kingston. Given his height, he went out for basketball--with our encouragement. He made the team, and, with his athletic abilities--he seems to do everything well, he was quickly moved to Varsity. Having someone young and precocious didn't sit well with the team. They had paid the price of a couple of years of practice and torture to achieve Varsity. He got it in a month. He didn't fit in. We heard a few months later, that the older members of the team were playing with his gullibility. They invited him to a party, got him drunk, and, if the campus police had not intervened they would have raped him, gang-raped him. I think he was a virgin at that point. We're pretty sure since he was still so immature. But, he was scarred. The innocent trust of a teen was betrayed--and that sort of betrayal marks a man for life."

"He shrunk into himself after that. Quit the team. Made no friends. Started to wear those ridiculous oversized sloppy clothes. But, he was a spectacular student. Completed his BA and MBA in just a few years. Then he realized the potential of AI well before most others. He was at a small investment bank since he had refused to join the 'family business'."

"You know the rest. He was fabulously successful at financing the other nerds who were the creators of the earliest AI models. But, I don't think he ever recovered from the rejection of what he thought were teammates--or the almost rape."

"We know he cruises. Anonymously. And always in those silly oversized outfits. It's as though he doesn't want potential partners to judge him by his physical appearance. He's looking for guys who like him for what he is--not who he is--a rich, fabulously successful, and handsome catch. It's like a fuckin' fairy tale. But, neither of us has been able to play the role of Fairy Godfather to him. He's still alone. And unhappy. And, I presume a pretty rough, exclusive top."

"Until maybe he met you."

"I don't know what actually happened earlier..."

"Nothing."

"But, does Loren know that? Really know it deep inside?"

"I explained, or tried to. And it wasn't exactly nothing."

"But, given his history, did he believe you? Even if he wanted to? You need to try again, Cole. He needs you. Please, do it for us. If not for yourself."

Again, I was silent. "He needs you now, Cole. Go to him. You are not needed here." "And good luck."

I was afraid to tell him that Loren would not believe me. Of course, Don was unaware of the business arrangement that Loren and I had. He assumed we were a genuine couple. But, Loren knew. I was his paid whore. And he knew my background too well. Why would he--should he--believe me? But, I had no place else to go. And I felt miserable too. So, I simply agreed, "I guess so. See you tomorrow." And I left, headed for the room, not knowing what to expect or what to say.

******

I entered the room in a few minutes later. The beach party was muffled in the distance. And the room was in near darkness although the drapes weren't pulled. The half moon provided the only light. Loren was sitting in a chair, silhouetted in the rising moon, dark, quiet--and with a large glass of liquid in his hand. He had removed the Gucci finery and was dressed in old sweats and a baggy tee, his comfort clothes. He looked crushed.

Let me tell you: there is nothing more pitiful than a despondent giant.

"I don't need anything. Go away," he shouted as I fumbled with the lock. Then, I entered. "Oh, it's you. I guess the party is about over--and you didn't find anyone to leave with. There's only one bed in here. And," he slurred, "I'm going to be sleeping alone tonight. Some of the guests have already left. They'll find you another room. Try Casita 6. I'm guessing it's empty by now. And you certainly know the way. Please leave."

"Loren, please. I need to explain."

"You've already tried, and I don't believe you. Do you think I'm an idiot? It's going to be fuckin' hard for you to explain why you were naked in the middle of the afternoon in someone else's bed. One cock in your mouth. Fingers deep in your hole. Another cock about to poke your ass. I guess I--and my money--are just not enough for you."

"That didn't happen. That cock never touched my lips. It disgusted me. And the other never got near me."

"So my eyes are deceiving me? You weren't nude? And in bed? I can still see that long dark tube between your lips. I guess you're definition of 'cocktails' is a little different from mine." Then he laughed maliciously at his own bad joke. He was drunk, or nearly so.

"Are you even going to listen?"

"I don't seem to have a choice, do I? You don't seem to be leaving. Go ahead. Tell me the story. And make it good. Then, get the fuck out of here. No! Tell me the story. Then stretch out on the bed. I'm going to take my last paid shot at that ass. AT least I remember the terms of our deal." He took another long swig of the amber liquid and stared, waiting for me to begin.

But, I decided on a different tact. I didn't try to explain away what he saw. "You came to Casita 6 this afternoon. May I ask why?"

"I saw the message light. I listened to the message on the room phone."

"So you know why I went there. You told me to go--and that you'd meet me there."

"That wasn't my message. It wasn't my voice. Just a desk clerk. Do you think I would be that stupid? But Casita 6? And those two sexy Frenchmen? Why?"

"You told me to go--and that you'd meet me there," I repeated.

"It wasn't me. I would never share you with anyone. You should know that by now."

"How was I to know? It was the desk, relaying your message. And you had suggested earlier that we meet those guys."

"That was only to put you off. You've wanted to top me. And I'm not ready for that. So I teased you with the idea that we'd both top those guys. It was a fuckin' joke, for Chrissakes."

"How was I to know all of that? I'm only an influencer. A dumbass model. I sell myself all the time. I'm not the guy with a cum laude degree and an MBA. I'm just a model--and a blond one at that."

"That won't work, Cole. I know how intelligent you are. And experienced. And you were naked. With them on the bed. Before I even arrived. And it sure looked like you were participating. And enjoying every second. Fuck his cock was touching your lips. And the other guy's fingers were up your fuckin' butt. You are not going to try to convince me that they were raping you are you? You love that stuff."

Curious that he should use that word. "I talked to Don. I know about your rape."

"He had no right. I don't talk about that. And they didn't rape me. They only tried."

"Well, the same is true for me. They tried. Only tried."

"I had spent the day at the beach. Too much sun. Too little food. And too much alcohol."

"You were fuckin' posing between them. You were smiling and moaning."

"Are you sure it wasn't a grimace? Or a groan? Are you a fuckin' psychiatrist now too? I didn't know you were such a keen interpreter of people."

Loren went silent again. And took another big swallow.

I knew I wasn't going to win this argument with logic. He would have to convince himself that he had jumped to conclusions. He needed time, time which I did not have. So I moved behind him on the chair. He didn't move or tense up. So, I quietly stripped. Then I bent over and removed the glass from his hand. I reached down and started to play with his nipples as I bent in and kissed his neck, nibbled on his ear. My touch was slow at first. Tentative. Brushing, almost tickling. Then, hard, really hard. At first, he was stiff, but I knew how sensitive his nipples were. I kept at it, until his tongue finally became engaged. He groaned and softened.

He was about to say something. Probably warning me to leave. But I bent in and took his lips and kissed him. And held the suction, forcing his lips to open.

Finally, with the incredible strength that I knew he had, he reached up and pulled me in a somersault over him into his lap. I landed hard, but he quickly reversed his hold and pulled us together. Our lips touched again. And his tongue invaded. And when he released me briefly, I murmured, "I love you, Loren. I'd never do anything to hurt you. Or that you didn't want. This afternoon was a mistake--but I didn't cheat. And I wasn't going to. Unless, of course, you were there and agreeing to it. Then it wouldn't be a cheat."

He stared at me in the dark for a long time, thinking. Then, I think he made up his mind to believe me.

He took my lips again and hugged me tightly to him. But, this time I could feel his cock hardening under my butt. I wondered. We were back? Or was this just my oversexed employer exercising his rights under the contract?

"I never thought I'd say this, Cole. But, I love you. And I can't stand the thought that any other guy touches you. You are mine alone. Mine alone. I need you. When I saw the look that Cherisse gave Paul this afternoon, I knew. I've seen that look in your eyes. And I'm pretty sure you see it in mine as well. I want that. Always."

By then, Loren had quieted, but his body was alive--and reaching out to me.

"I love being here in your lap and in your arms, Loren. In fact, I love you. Period. Anytime. Anywhere. Just take me." I bent down and kissed him again. Our lips locked and he opened. My tongue invaded and swept around inside. "I like the scotch. But, I like you more."

He mumbled, "Single malt, made just for me."

"I've gotten over my aversion to kissing, Loren. You, at least. But, not when you are awash in Scotch."

"I'll brush." But, he didn't release. He was still holding me tightly to his body. I felt so protected. And so much in love with this guy.

"Shall we sleep on it and talk tomorrow?"

"Is there more?"

"No, nothing."

He paused, but continued to stroke me. Quietly, for a long time. I could tell he was thinking. His body had forgiven me. I could feel it under my butt. His dick was rock hard. And his hands were steadily pulling my cheeks apart so that he could burrow more deeply. I'll never get tired of that fat Nordic sausage sliding between my cheeks.

Definitely, his body had forgiven--or at least forgotten this afternoon. But, maybe not his brain.

Then, very quietly, he whispered, "I promised you could fuck me tonight. I'm a man of my word. Let's get you out these fancy duds and go to bed. It's been a very long, difficult day. I've been a spoiled brat. And I need you to spank me and put me to bed!"

"No violence, Loren. I'm not going to take you that way. Don told me."

He froze, but said nothing. I feared that I had raised a subject that he preferred to kept hidden--at least from me. Perhaps the only time in his life when he had felt helpless and vulnerable. I was afraid that I had blown it again.

But, he recovered quickly. And was back to business. "I'll owe you a clean fifty after tonight."

"I've lost count, Loren."

"I bet!"

"Tonight is our last night here. So not tonight, Loren. You've made a deal, and I'm yours. You bought me for the trip, and I'm a man of my word. So not tonight. Maybe tomorrow. It depends. Right now, I need to feel you inside me. Then I'll know you really believe me. Please don't fuck me. Make love to me, Babe."

He stood slowly, carefully cradling me, and carried me to the bed. I'm a grown desirable man, but he makes me feel like a protected child. He's so gentle. He stood back and removed his oversized sweats and the tee. Now we were both naked. He bent down and planted a long wet kiss on the tip of my erection. His tongue emerged and he soaked up the drop of precum that his kiss produced. Then he inhaled the bulb and clamped his lips under the corona. He held, increasing the suction, before he slipped down and pulled back up, using his tongue to wash my shaft. He rose and smiled at me. And I knew the crisis was over. I reached up to pull him into me. "Just a sec." And he disappeared to brush.

Then, he was back, naked and as big and erect as I've ever seen him. It was so hard that he didn't even sway; it was rigid and pointing, like a hot cannon ready to fire. He really is a giant. I was already on my back. Without taking my eyes from his enormity, I spread my legs and vee'd them up. I held out my arms to him. He nestled in this time, totally capturing me with his muscled body. His arms spread and locked behind my knees as he bent in. His eyes were intent. His face was dark. His light hair drooped over his forehead. The sex was just dripping from him. I drew our heads together and opened, inviting his kiss, as the tip of his dick moved into battering position, just below my balls. It tapped the taint and moved lower, poised at the entrance.

But, he didn't press. He paused, fell to the side and drew me into his body, our lips together again. "I want this to last, Cole. I want us to last."

We hugged, rolled and wrestled. It was like normal. Physical. Hot. Masculine. Except that now I knew it was love. Then, I think to prove his purpose, he knelt back and bent in. His rough hands spread me as he lifted me to his face. His tongue began to circle, round and round, straying to the cheek from time to time, poking even more often. He nipped me a few times--just the way I loved it. And finally, his tongue cupped, and he invaded as his lips latched on and he sucked. He was going to bring me off just with his fuckin' tongue!

I managed to groan the words out, "Oh, God, Loren. You are the best. Nobody could ever turn me on like you do. I love it when you eat me like this. My own big gentle giant ass-eater."

He was busy, so he didn't answer. Just kept doing me. He was massaging my cheeks and devouring me at the same time, pushing me up the hill of arousal. My legs, hooked over his shoulder pulled tight, urging him ever deeper. It was incredible, but I wanted him. In. Me. Now!!

"Loren, make love to me, Babe. Please. Now."

His beautiful head rose. His eyes were shining now. With tears. "I can't live without you, Cole. I don't want to. Forgive me?"

"What for?" I thought.

Then he released and allowed me to fall back onto the sheets. He stretched my legs, shot a little lube into me and onto him before he entered slowly and paused as he drew my legs around his waist to hold him tightly inside. He bent down, lifted me from the mattress and drew me to him, holding me tightly. It was a show of incredible strength. He was planked, resting on his elbows, holding me and him rigidly together off the mattress. The push up position was rigid, so I clung to him like a monkey on a favorite fruit tree. Not afraid to fall. He was holding me tightly to him and filling me with his shaft. He was as deep as ever and in total control of my body--just the way I had learned to expect.

It was too much for him, even a giant, to hold. He relaxed the stretch, allowed me to touch the sheets, and fell back on his haunches, drawing me with him. Now I was sitting in his lap, with his pole deeply imbedded inside. His strong hands gripped my cheeks, moving me up and down, using me. The pace had changed. He had slowed up, savoring every inch of every plunge. His cock was moving slowly, in and out, filling me with its size, stretching me, stroking my love button with each pass. My arms surrounded his neck and we kissed. This was love making at its very best.

Ultimately he groaned and rose up to deepen his penetration. He was full kneeling now, holding me tightly to him. He was close. I could feel the tension. I felt the pressure on my chute as his dick expanded and exploded inside, filling me with his love seeds. It was all I needed. My own cock stiffened and sprayed our chests with the musky spunk of love. My orgasm was seismic, enveloping my entire body in the exertion of giving it up for my lover. My arms tightened around his neck, and we kissed.

Now we were both soaked and full of each other. It was without a doubt the best fuck of my life.

I could feel it. This wasn't lust--well it was lust. I wanted him and his seed inside me more than anything I had ever wanted before. But, it also was love. I could feel it. But, I needed to say it, "You are all I need inside me. Don't ever doubt me again, Loren. I am yours. Only yours. I love you."

Then we fell back to the bed and hugged, hard, trying to attach ourselves irrevocably to each other forever. My cum on our chests helped. God, I wanted him inside me always. I wanted his strength and his love and his compassion. I tightened my chute to hold him deeply inside, feeling the aftershocks of his orgasm.

We slept. And the next morning, he insisted. Before we showered, he moved to the center of the bed, pulled several pillows under him, and posed. "Take my ass, Cole. It's yours. I'm yours."

He had crossed a barrier. He is letting me in. I saw the love in his eyes--and the fear. Maybe he was reliving the "almost rape" of so many years before. But, now he trusted me. And, God that huge Nordic ass looked so inviting!

"Not this way, Loren. I need to see those eyes when I take you." But, first I bent in and took advantage of his position, using my tongue to open him. I had been warned by Don. Loren was probably a virgin--a virgin who had been violated as a young man, and so he of course feared the pain. Ultimately my tongue tired. So it was time for well-lubed--and practiced--fingers. I was going to make this as good as he could ever imagine. I wanted him to want this again. And again.

I ate and ate until he was writhing with need. Then I worked fingers into him, stretching, playing with his button. Finally, I flipped him and lubed him and me again, both liberally. He drew his legs up and out and smiled, giving me the final permission. I bent in, and while I played with his sensitive nipples, I applied the pressure to gain entry. Slowly and with as much love as he had given me so often. At first, he resisted. He was unusually tight for someone so big. I persisted, applying more and more pressure as I tightened my grip on his nipples. Until finally, I slipped in. I saw the pain in his eyes, probably more from expectation than actuality. He was tight, but I'm not that big. I was in, and while his eyes were registering fear, his body was pulling me in. Unconsciously, his butt rolled up and pulled me deeper. Until, I felt the nut, hard and big. I touched it, stroked it, and hit it again with my cockhead. His smile widened and the fear began to fade from his bright blue eyes as the pleasure endorphins began to spread.

He tightened his hold on me, "Cole, that is so good. But, harder. Harder."

I kept up the rocking, gaining depth slowly, ever so slowly, as Loren began to moan in pleasure. Again, he whispered, "Oh, Cole. That feels so good."

And so, of course, it felt terrific to be taking him. Within a few minutes he was enjoying it as much as I, squirming under me, pushing back into me, murmuring "deeper" and "harder." As macho and controlling as ever. Thank God, he's as enthusiastic a bottom as he is a top. I knew that my technique was good. But, this was so much more. I was making love to my lover. Even to say the words makes me tingle. "My lover." "My lover."

His climax hit suddenly and hard. He growled, that deep, basso profundo of a Nordic hero in the opera, and exploded between our touching chests. That contracted his ring and snatched everything left in me. I exploded deep inside and seeded him with myself, giving him everything that I had. He held me close for minutes. I looked up and our lips met again. "Thanks, lover. That was great. I only regret that it took so long. But, we've got a lot of lost time to make up for!"

After we finished, while I was still on top, resting on his hard, giant's body, plugging my spunk inside and nibbling on his ear, he whispered. "I'm extending your contract, Cole. Indefinitely. I'm buying your contract from Avalon. Forget them and that life."

I didn't answer. I couldn't. I was a little afraid. I had a life, a very good life. Loren was such an enormous force. Would he let me breathe? But, deep inside I knew that the answer was yes. I wanted this.

"And forget the Soho condo. You're moving in with me. I want more of you. ALL fucking ALL of you. In my bed. In my shower. On my couch. In my kitchen. In front of my windows."

"Woah! Are you going to let me breathe? Or work? Or even leave the condo?" It was a joke. He could breathe for both of us. I wanted everything that he wanted--and him.

"I think we are going to have some real fun together over the years. I'm ready to give real meaning to being your lover, Cole. You are going to be topping me as often as I top you."

"And, at a thousand a pop, you are going to be a very wealthy man before we are middle-aged."

"You mean you are still going to pay me? Being together to you is just an extension of my contract?"

"Why not? You do have a contract. You're in business. I understand that. And when I pay for something, I automatically give it value. You're worth it, Cole. Definitely worth it. And what I have is yours anyway. So, it'll be a cute little secret between us. The only thing that is little, I might say." (As he squeezed my dick, which was still chubbed from our encounter.)

Then he laughed, that deep rumbling sound which gave me goosebumps. Cole, I know that being with you is going to be a constant give and take. And, as of this minute, I'm willing to give as well as take. I've grown to love your smart mouth.

I guessed that we were in for some hell of a ride. But, it was a trip that I definitely wanted to take with this lovable guy. My gentle giant.

Epilogue

We had a late breakfast in the room. And we exchanged another set of love making before emerging to give our farewells to his dads. When he gave himself to me completely, it totally changed the dynamic. Now he definitely was loving me. And I was loving him back.

But he had one more--or maybe two--surprise(s) up his non-existent sleeve. (We hadn't even dressed this time when the waiter rolled in the breakfast cart. And this time, he did gawk at our towel-wrapped bodies as he set the table.)

We were sitting in the "parlor" of the old mansion. Loren's dads were enjoying their last cocktail before decamping. Everyone had departed, headed back to the grind, save the four of us. They had invited us for a last drink, presumably to spend the last few minutes with their favorite (and only) son.

"We've got a few announcements. I've decided that LL Finance needs to branch out. Cole is going to remain in his EVP position at LVGD. But we are going to make a few changes to his job description. He is going to work with me on the expansion. LVGD is going to be the biggest aggregator of luxury brands in the world."

"I don't know shit about fashion, but Cole has enough for both of us."

He paused for just a few seconds and smiled broadly at his dads, "And he's agreed to move in with me."

His dads smiled at each other and touched their frosty glasses. They were hoping.

"And, I've got another idea." Loren looked at me, "What would think of a new namesake fashion line? I'm thinking 'Hot and Cole'--which has a nice ring. Of course, I'll be the Hot, and you'll be the Cole."

"You won't get an argument from me. You are the fuckin' hottest guy that I've ever met, Loren."

"Dads, can you reserve this place for next year?"

I cut in, "I'd like that, Loren. But, maybe a different island? This one holds a few bad memories that I'd like to forget."

"I've already forgotten them, Cole. I trust you--it's only the other guys that I don't trust around you. You are so fuckin' beautiful. And so fuckin' fuckable! But, I've got to learn that you can be a big boy. You've just proved that to me."

Then he whispered, in a voice loud enough that I'm sure his dads heard, "A really big--and talented--boy. My ass is sore. Good sore. But sore."

Then, out loud, but looking at his dads, "You've got it, Pet. Not this island."

"I think that can be arranged."

"Now, you need to excuse us, we've got a few more things to do on the island before we leave this evening."

We headed back to the room. "The contract doesn't end until midnight."

Then, he pushed me onto the bed. Fuck, he was hard again already. His shorts were ridiculously tented. "Now it's my turn, Pet. I'm up for one more roll before we return to New York."

What a way to spend the day. A proposal--no two. Reciprocal fucks! And two K, maybe three K more, in the bank! "Hot and Cole." And a future. Sounds good. "Hot and Cole Laurentzen."

BD